The Dragon And The Pirate
by Dreamtalker1
Summary: After the Jolly Roger is damaged in battle, Captain Hook and his crew are forced to dock on a cursed island, rumored to be guarded by a dragon. As night settles upon them, strangeness ensues. One-shot
**Easter Special: The Dragon And The Pirate**

 _Summary:_

 _After the Jolly Roger is damaged in battle, Captain Hook and his crew are forced to dock on a cursed island, rumored to be guarded by a dragon. As night settles upon them, strangeness ensues._

* * *

The tavern was filled with people. It was a holiday in early spring and for the sailors or dockworkers that had no families to spend the free day with, this was the place to be. Heavy rain had been pounding on the roof for hours, as if a deluge was descending upon them. Not a nice day to spend outside, but it did work to the innkeeper's advantage; he'd be making a lot of money today **.**

The scent of perspiration hung in the stale air and when the door opened, the smell of wet leather was added to the mix. A man entered, scanned the room until he located the person he was looking for, and then proceeded to move directly to the corner of the tavern. He hunghis coat over the chair and slumped into it.

"Any news?," he asked.

"Aye," the waiting man answered. "It appears that this bastard of a pirate is still alive. The git is like a bloody hydra. You chop off his head and he regrows two new ones."

"Pain in the ass," the other man agreed. "What did you hear?"

The man in the heavy leather coat groaned, "Apparently, a fishing boat pulled him out of the sea and brought him here. He didn't say his name, but according to their description it must be him. He left two days later on a merchant ship; I guess he sensed we were coming for him."

"Are we following him then, Captain?" the other man asked.

The Captain shook his head and raised his hook to get the wench's attention.

"More rum!" he demanded with an impatient gesture. Addressing the man, he responded, "Blackbeard isn't worth the trouble. I'm sure we will cross paths again, and when that day comes, he will be well acquainted with the ocean floor **,** where he belongs. Right now, I need to fix the ship. I don't know where to find the money though."

He leaned back to make room for the wench, and watched her fill his glass. Her hip-length black hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and grazed his hand as she bent over the table. When she straightened up, her face portrayed innocence, but her greenish-gray eyes showed mischief, which made it clear it had been intentional.

He wasn't a man known for hesitating, so he forcefully cupped her hip and pulled her into his lap.

"Return to the ship and inform the crew that we're leaving in the morning. There is a cheep shipyard just a two days' journey away."

"Aye Captain," the sailor replied.

The Captain could see the man's disappointment at having to leave the tavern early, he'd probably hoped for a nice evening with one of the wenches. But he didn't make a sound and followed the instructions immediately. The Captain was pleased. He had hired the new sailor a few months ago and so far he proved to be a hard worker and never once complained about anything **.**

So he turned his attention back to the pretty girl on his lap. By then, she was caressing his chest with slender fingers, brushing over his skin, eliciting a pleasured sound from his lips. She was young, way too young to be in that profession, but obviously a natural. And she reminded him of _her_. He could already feel his pants tighten, when the girl spoke with a low voice, "I've heard so many stories about you. The famous Captain Hook, the rough pirate who has been traveling the high seas for decades. I imagined you in many ways but nobody told me that you'd be this handsome."

Smirking, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was tender and soft, and probably not what the girl had expected, because he could feel her inhale under his lips. He pulled her closer with the hook and intensified the kiss, eliciting a shiver from the girl.

Bar wenches like her weren't used to tenderness. Usually, they satisfied the needs of simple men, rough fellows who came here for a quick fuck, and paid no heed to a woman's pleasure. A long time ago he had been like that too, but lately his attitude had changed. Maybe he somehow hoped that gentleness would bring back the feeling he used to have when being touched by a woman. Not that he couldn't get aroused, that wasn't the problem, but that was all he could feel. He had tried to dispel the emptiness in every way, taking a woman on her back, on her knees, rough and gentle, but nothing worked. After finishing, the emptiness tended to creep up on him, laughing gleefully into his face, telling him that he hadn't defeated it, which often made him feel even worse than when he'd started. Gentleness made it stay away a little bit longer and usually the women appreciated their time with him, but at the end it didn't change a thing.

When the girl on his lap ran her hand down his abdomen and slid it under his pants, he sighed and gently pulled it out. Maybe it was because she resembled _her_ or due to the general situation, but he could already feel the emptiness approaching. Spending the night with her would waste both of their time and darken his mood.

"What's wrong, Captain," the girl asked, irritated.

"You're perfect, lass," he assured her. "But I can't visit your chambers tonight. I have to leave port in the early morning hours."

The girl removed her hand from his body and gave him a disenchanted look.

"Are you broke?"

Hook tensed and shoved her off his legs. He didn't need the girl spreading rumors about him. Nobody needed to know that he was short on money, so he handed her a few gold coins.

It was more than enough, considering that he hadn't accepted her services, and he wondered why she didn't back off. The girl stood in front of him with red cheeks, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Now, what is it?" he asked harshly.

"I don't want to steal your time, Captain. But I knowwhere you can get money from."

Hook raised an eyebrow and watched her with purported disinterest but didn't dismiss her. The girl hesitated to speak until Hook signaled for her to sit again and continue.

"I heard some of the sailors talk about it, and it's only a day's journey away." She cleared her throat. "Did you ever hear of Dragon Island?"

Hook's eyebrow raised further until it almost reached his hairline. Of course he knew the tale of that bloody island; every sailor carried the story in his bones. However, he saw the joy on the girl's face. She appeared even younger now, reminding him more of a child than a woman, excited to share the story. A tinge of sympathy arose from the depths of his soul, and he decided to stay a little bit longer in the warm tavern.

"A dragonlives there, guarding his brood," the girl explained. "Do you know the value of a dragon egg?"

He nodded. Dragon eggs were rare in all the realms and the value was higher than that of gold, let alonediamonds. The shell was of a different kind of lime, rutted and shining in a deep purple. He had seen a dragon egg once as a child. It had been displayed in a cabinet of a castle he had visited with his father. Depending on the light, it had seemed to pulsate. He had heard rumors that the material was a secret ingredient of Pixie Dust, the one that made the powder magical, but he wasn't sure if it was true.

The egg had frightened the young Killian Jones, and the thought of magic still frightened the man. Since that very day he tried to avoid magic at any costs. Though, here he was, listening to the girl's story.

"There's a prophecy telling that five obstacles must be overcome to defeat the dragon. Many men set forth to challenge the dragon and kill it, and they've yet to return. Some people say that the dragon ate them, some people say it enchanted them to carve out a miserable existence as its slaves."

Hook had to stifle a laugh. Her way of expressing was truly enjoyable. "Love, you're born to be a storyteller. What are you doing in this hovel? You should be traveling the world."

He lifted her chin with his hook.

The girl swallowed and looked at him, almost shy now.

"I would leave everything behind to come with you," she whispered wishfully and for a moment a pang broke through the emptiness in his heart. This girl didn't only look like a younger version of _her;_ even her attitude was like _hers_.

"I'm sorry," he rejected her plea and almost promised to pay her a visit when he was in town the next time, but he stopped himself in time. He would never return to that girl, and giving her hope in telling her lies was a cruel thing to do.

With that he stood up, plunked the payment on the table and walked to the door, ditching the girl without looking back. All he had to offer her was danger and death, and it was definitely better for her to feel offended and hate him, instead of waiting for his return.

* * *

After setting sail, everything went wrong. First the head sail tore, then the rudder blocked, which forced them to anchor at the nearest place possible. As it happened, the nearest land to dock in was Dragon Island. Unlike most islands, Dragon Island wasn't much more than a filthy rock, but it shielded them from the forces of the open sea and gave them time to make the ship maneuverable again.

There was no dragon in sight, but Hook didn't believe that story anyway. Dragons didn't live in caves in the middle of the ocean, they were to be found further south where the temperatures were higher and they could find enough prey. The only possible explanation for the sailors' disappearance was the sharpness of the rocks surrounding the area. Sailing these waters could easily end in catastrophe, but due to his lifelong experience, they had made port safely. The Jolly was now positioned next to a crag, the deck flush with the rocky surface of the island. Despite his current situation, Hook had no intention of setting foot in this cursed place; like every other sailor, he tended to be superstitious. After sunset he ordered the crew to light up lanterns and retired to his cabin for the night.

-I-

He was woken by a whisper. First, he mistook it for the noise of the wind, but when he left the cabin it sounded more like a voice, murmuring slurred words. There was something out there in the dark that made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. It called for him, trying to lure him off the ship. He wasn't stupid; of course he wouldn't fall for it.

Hook turned around to go back to bed, but then a scream cut the silence. He froze; his blood ran cold at the sound of the familiar voice.

Milah.

That couldn't be possible! Milah was gone; she had died in his arms when the Crocodile crushed her heart to dust. This island was playing him, obfuscating his mind, driving him mad. The next step was followed by another cry. Hook's lips thinned as he made his way to the hatch.

"Killian!"

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sound of her desperate reached the hatch and hastily opened it, eager to make his way back in his ship, his safe haven, where he could pretend none of this ever happened.

"Killian, where are you?" The voice was weak, a faint whisper in the wind. "Why did you abandon me?"

Hook stopped in his tracks, wanting to shout at the voice. He hadn't abandoned her; she had been taken from him by that bloody Crocodile. It hadn't been his fault.

"You're lying to yourself," the voice whispered tauntingly. "It was entirely your fault. If it hadn't been for you, she would still be alive. You killed her!"

In a towering rage Hook spun around, making his way across the deck in three steps, climbed over the rail and jumped onto the next rock.

"Shut your filthy mouth, whoever you are!" he yelled into the fog that was surrounding him. But the voice didn't answer.

He turned around. The heavy fog blocked his view of the Jolly, so he took a few steps, careful not to slip and fall into the water. Something was wrong; it shouldn't take this long to get back to the ship. Several minutes later he had to admit he was lost. He called for his crew, but nobody answered and he cursed himself for his foolish actions. Against all reason, he had let anger cloud his judgment.

With time, the mist made him shiver with cold and as if it wasn't enough, it even started to rain.

Clenching his jaw, he flung a stone away with his boot and faced the fog. "Okay, you're right!" he yelled. "I do know she died because of me. And you know what? I'm reminded of it everyday!" He raised his hook.

Without seeing anything, he marched through the fog. He didn't know which direction he was heading in, unfortunately he wasn't carrying his compass, but he honestly couldn't care less at the moment. His thoughts were with Milah, the woman he had loved and lost centuries ago, still consuming his thoughts. What truly scared him was that her image was slowly fading from his mind; sometimes he even had trouble recalling her eye color.

His walk ended abruptly when he ran into a wall of rocks. Cursing, he rubbed his forehead and noticed that the rain had stopped. Scanning his surroundings, he realized he was standing in the mouth of a cave that was shielding him from the rain. Maybe he could spend the night here and try to find the Jolly in the morning. So he continued to explore the cave. At the far end, he happened upon a small hole that led deeper into the cavity. A warm glow radiated from it. Probably another bad idea, but it was so cold outside and he couldn't resist venturing into the hole.

-II-

He had to move on all fours to fit through the narrow passage,but he managed and his efforts were rewarded with an eerily beautiful sight. The immense inner landscape of the cavern was coated with a layer of broken rocks forming the ground, only infringed upon by the stream of a swirling blue river, as subtle and as fragile as the sweep of a painter's brush. The ceiling was littered with clusters of luminous turquoise crystals, blanketing the space in a cool glow of light **.**

He sat down and removed his shoes. His socks were soaked, like the rest of his clothes, and he hoped he wouldn't catch a cold on this bloody island. So he stripped off his socks and put his shoes back on, making his way down to the river, further into the heart of the cave where the warmth was coming from.

Hook looked at his reflection in the water. A grim man was staring back at him, droplets seeping from his hair and dark shadows around his eyes. He squatted down, unable to avert his gaze. He used to tease people, especially women, with his good looks, telling them how devilishly handsome he was, and he was usually awarded with either smiles, or strikes - if they were tough. But it was merely an act, a mask he has been wearing for a very long time.

Without warning, he forcefully pushed the hook through the water, blurring the image of the empty face reflecting back at him.

But then he noticed movement right beneath the surface. Before he could react, something enormous was breaking through the water, with a mouth full of sharp teeth and quivering nostrils. The beast snapped for his arm.

Instinctively, Hook jumped back, escaping the attack. Aghast at the sight of his hook between its teeth, he stared into the crocodile's eyes.

"No," he gasped and the crocodile blinked. Its green skin was encrusted with a golden glow, the spiteful eyes never leaving his own.

"You can't take that from me, too," Hook growled, but the crocodile gave no mercy, as it shut its mouth and swallowed the hook.

"Look at you," the crocodile sneered with a familiar voice that made his flesh crawl. "This is the man you really are. A cripple."

"Shut up!" Hook yelled.

The crocodile burst into laughter. "Because I'm speaking the truth? You're nothing, Killian Jones!"

"I'm a captain," Hook objected.

"How long do you think you're going to keep your rank without the hook, Dearie?", the crocodile chuckled.

"My crew respects me!" A desperate undertone mingled in his voice.

"My crew respects me," the crocodile mimicked him shrilly and hit the water with its tail, showering Hook in a torrent.

"They don't respect you, Dearie. They fear you. But without the hook…," The beast gave him a disparaging look, "You're just a coward, wailing over a harlot."

Hook saw red. Without a second thought, he plunged into the water, trying to dash the crocodile. He wanted to hurt the beast, knock out its teeth or better, drown it right there. He didn't care if he died because of it, he wanted to take as much from the crocodile as he could get. But when he lashed out, there was nobody in the water but himself.

Before he knew what was happening, the current carried him down the river. His head collided with a rock and everything went dark.

-III-

"Killian!" A distant voice reached his ears. "Killian, wake up." Hook opened his eyes, staring into a worried face. His brother's face.

"Liam?" he whispered and slowly the fog in his head cleared and he found his senses. He wasn't hallucinating; it really was his brother, unmistakable with his brown hair and his characteristic sly smile. Was he dead? Confused, Killian sat up, taking in his surroundings. They were both sitting in two respective boats, floating down the river of the cave.

Liam was leaning at the edge of his boat which was positioned flushed against his own. His brother's arms were holding Hook's boat in place, so it couldn't drift away.

"Liam, how can you be…, is this real?"

"As real as you want it to be," Liam answered kindly. He spoke with this gracious tone he used to address everyone. Always humble, always respectful, his honorable brother. He had held a high sense of duty, had never let anyone down. Unlike him. Hook owned none of these values. How could he even look him in the eye? How could he tell him what had become of him, what Liam's death had triggered?

"I know," he heard Liam's understanding voice and finally Hook looked up and dared to meet his brother's eyes. Hook wanted to tell him how sorry he was, how many times he had relived that day in Neverland in his mind, not able to change anything.

But he couldn't. He wasn't able to say a word. It was like something had muted him. His mouth opened, and the words lingered on his tongue, but nothing could be heard. Liam watched him with a questioning expression and waited for him to speak.

Hook touched his larynx and felt the vibration but he still couldn't make a sound.

All at once, a jolt rocked through the boat and it was thrusted into a chute, disrupting the moment and ripping the boats apart. Both Liam and Hook tried to hold the boats together but they were helpless against the force of the river. So, Hook had to watch Liam's boat float away and disappear behind a rock shortly after.

'Why are you doing this to me? Go ahead and kill me already,' he shouted into the direction where Liam had disappeared, addressing the island. But again no words left his mouth.

The boat got caught in a swirl, and was reeled, causing water to strike his face.

Once again, he drifted off into darkness.

-IIII-

When he woke up again, he was lying on solid ground, the rocks pressing uncomfortably against his back. The river had cast him up on the bank. He was lucky that he wasn't wearing his heavy leather coat; otherwise he probably would have drowned. He was soaked, but the temperature had increased and his hair was almost dry. The river had carried him further into the heart of the cave. He didn't recognize his surroundings, so he decided to follow the river.

As he got up, he noticed that his hook was in place, and he wasn't sure if he had dreamed everything. But given the dull ache in his head, the part where he hit the rock had to be real. He must have fallen into the river afterwards. By then, he understood the laws of this game the island was playing with his mind. First Milah, then the Crocodile and then Liam. He had to face the ghosts of his past, had to relive the parts of his life that hurt him the most and had turned him into the pirate he was. There was only one person left to complete the picture. His father. He almost expected him to jump up from the next corner.

As time went by, the cave narrowed to a duct, causing a feeling of confinement, but Hook didn't turn around. Something drove him into the heart of the island, towards the warmth. He suddenly found himself at a crossroad, one path taking him down the river, and the other leading him into the dark.

Clueless, Hook sat down, sensing that he had to make the right decision here. He didn't understand what the task had to do with his father, but following the rules of the game, he had to face his last demon, and that was his father. The father who didn't deserve that title, because he had abandoned him and Liam. Everything he'd ever told him about being true to oneself had been nothing but empty words. The man deserved death, but that didn't ease the pain. It had been this man who had planted the seed of emptiness that had settled in his soul, spreading like a tumor, inviting darkness and anger.

But the longer he waited, the surer he was that Brennan Jones wouldn't show up. He'd never returned to him after leaving them on that ship, instead he'd found a new family and forgot about his two other sons. Liam and he had been replaced like pieces of furniture. So why should he show up now?

Hook had lived with his father's absence his entire life, it only made sense.

"Is that what this is about? You want to show me how alone I am?" he yelled into the tunnels. He was surprised by the sound of his loud voice. "Yeah, now you let me talk again?" he added.

His echo resounded through the walls, returning from the tunnels. He nodded cynically, wishing he could blow up the bloody island with a few rods of dynamite. And then he realized something was odd.

He called into the tunnels again. There it was, his echo, but it only resounded through the tunnel the river was disappearing into. Did it mean he had to follow this way? It made sense, the echo and the stream indicated that there was a passage through the rock, and at some point it had to exit into the ocean. It had to be his way out. He stood up to make his way down the path but stopped after a few steps.

Had that really been the point of the task? That he should follow a voice? The island forced him to face his fears and his biggest fear was to be alone. He looked at the dark tunnel to his left, the tunnel which had swallowed his voice and somehow he knew he had to follow that path. With a deep breath, he made his choice and stepped into the darkness.

-V-

A familiar turquoise light reached his eyes when he stepped out of the tunnel into another cavern. He was standing on a ledge, a small pathway leading to the heart of the cave where the warmth was coming from. The light dimmed as he made his way closer to the radiating warmth.

He heard it before he noticed it, a deep snort, shaking the walls, and then he saw the swish of a tail, armed with silver prickles. The dragon. A real dragon! Hook stood there, dead in his tracks, examining the creature. Its lying form rivaled the size of the Jolly. Grayish silver scales covered the body, twinkling when the dragon moved in its sleep. Majestically, it guarded the cave, ancient as if it represented another time. It was beautiful, not comparable to the ugly crocodile. A second look showed him that the dragon was chained, a metal cuff resting around his left hind leg.

The dragon exhaled and smoke escaped its nostrils. It moved its head to another position, revealing an egg. It was lying in its nest, closely guarded by its mother. The shell wasn't purple like of the egg he had seen as a child, this one was silver like its mother's prickles.

What the hell was he doing here? By then, he wasn't sure if he had chosen the right path. This hole was a dead end; there was no way out of this cave, except the one he used to come in. He should have followed logic and taken the river's path.

He could just turn around and leave through the tunnel he had come from. But then he looked back at the egg, imagining what he could do with it. The sell would not only suffice to repair the Jolly, but could also buy an entire fleet. Everyone would know that it had been him, Killian Jones, no, Captain Hook, the fearsome pirate of the realms, who had taken the dragon's egg.

Careful not to make a sound, he snuck closer until he was standing in front of the dragon. This endeavor was insane, but it was worth the risk. It didn't matter if his attempt proved fatal. He had lived for hundreds of years; he had no one to return to, except his crew. A crew capable of carrying on without him. Some of them would mourn the loss of him for a few weeks, then elect the next captain and continue with their lives. The only thing that would stay in this world after his passing would be his reputation. So what did he have to loose?

The dragon didn't move when Hook touched the egg. The surface was abrasive, warm and it was so heavy that he had to hold it with both arms. It would be difficult to get it out of the cave, but he would have to manage. Altogether, that had been easier than expected. He checked if the dragon was still sleeping, before leaving. It's chest was undulating rhythmically with the smoke that was escaping its nose.

And then it opened one eye. A green iris surrounded the constricted pupils, staring into his core as a deep growl rippled through the creature's chest. Without noticing, the egg slipped from his hand and shattered when it hit the ground. Shocked, both of them looked down and then a blood curling cry erupted from the dragon. It was a sound of such torture and pain; Hook had never heard anything like it before. It stung in his ears, seizing his soul. He had just killed the dragon's child.

He turned around and ran. Behind him, he could hear the dragon open its wings. In a split second, the dragon landed in front of him. It stared at him with steaming nostrils and a wild fury in its eyes. And then a flame darted out of its mouth. Hook dove to the ground, escaping death by a hair's breadth. He jumped to his feet and tried to run in the opposite direction. But once again, the dragon landed in front of him, blocking the way. By then Hook understood that the dragon had no intention of killing him quickly. It wanted to draw out his suffering, make it as painful as possible. It lashed out with its claw, hurling him against the cave's wall. The air was pressed out of his lungs as he slipped to the floor and almost lost consciousness. He had tried to shield himself against the attack with the hook, which then had a silver scale impaled on it.

It was over and the dragon knew it, too. It was blocking the only exit of the cave, slowly making its way to the pirate. A jolt stopped the dragon in its tracks as it reached the end of the chain, unable to move any further. It growled, annoyed with the collar. It could have sent a flame towards the pirate, but chose to simply sit down.

Hook removed the scale from the hook and looked at the dragon, who glared at him with narrow eyes. Obviously it had all the time in the world to enjoy its revenge. Defeated, Hook turned the scale in his hand. Maybe the dragon was another illusion, maybe he was already dead. It had been the island's plan to lead him here all along, that was for sure. The rumors had to be true. Nobody survived Dragon Island. He could only hope his crew didn't suffer the same fate. But he sensed they would send out a search party, probably follow him into the cave and find themselves in the same predicament anyways.

"You won," he stated cynically towards the island. "You can have me."

He watched the dragon's reaction. Surprisingly, the creature didn't seem to listen. It was touching the egg shells with his nostrils, arranging them somehow. The fury had left its beautiful green eyes and was replaced with deep sadness.

Guilt was overwhelming the pirate. He never intended to kill anyone's child. In fact, he hadn't even regarded the egg as an offspring. But the fact that it had no arms or legs and was yet to be born didn't make it any less of a child. All he had seen was its value on the market and the money and fame it could garner him.

When had he become so selfish? When had Captain Hook replaced Killian Jones? Had it really started with his father, and did that even matter?

He thought of the people who had entered and left his life, people that had given him second chances. Every death had left a mark, sealing his heart bit by bit. But in the end it had been him who had denied himself the search for further chances. He had _chosen_ to give up hope for a happy ending. It had been him who had done all those horrible things, not his father, not the Crocodile, and he couldn't even blame the deaths of his loved ones for it. Only himself. _He_ was responsible. But his chances had run out. Now it was too late.

He stepped forward, holding the scale in front of his body, as if it could protect him. Not that he wanted to be protected. He deserved death and he would let the dragon take its vengeance.

The creature watched him come closer, small flames already coming out of its mouth.

"I'm sorry," he spoke with a firm voice. It was all he had to offer, and he knew it was nothing, definitely not enough to ease the pain of a mother, but he needed to say it anyway. He raised his head and met the dragon's eyes. The creature's sadness matched his own and he felt tears build behind his eyes. Never had he thought he would die crying, but it didn't matter anymore. Nobody would see him meet his fate; he was beyond caring for his reputation anyway.

A single tear escaped his eye and dripped on the scale. And then something strange happened. It was as if it came to life, pulsating in his hand. White light blinded his eyes and as the scale transformed in his hands. Suddenly, a blast of hot air hit him, causing him to almost lose balance.

The light faded slowly and Killian could open his eyes again. Startled, he noticed that he was holding a strand of blond hair in his hand. He was standing on a rock, still in the cave. It didn't feel like he was dead. He looked up to scan his surroundings and his jaw dropped.

The dragon was gone, and in its place, a human body was cowering on the floor. Long blond hair fell over the female's nude form and an iron cuff on her left ankle was the only thing marring her pale skin.

Hesitantly, Killian stepped closer and took off his cardigan to cover the woman in front of him. When the fabric touched her, she looked up with the same deep green eyes, this time human eyes. Taken aback, he could do nothing but to return her gaze. Everything about this woman was beautiful, her fair skin, the shape of her lips, her long lashes framing her eyes that reminded him of lush grass, of land and home.

Puzzled, she moved her fingers over her face as if she couldn't believe what she was feeling. And then she stood up, reaching for him. He had been touched by many women over the years, but when her hand brushed over his face and her fingers ran though his hair, he felt a knot in his chest.

The young woman didn't stop touching him and as she let her hand glide over his shoulders, she closed the distance and pressed her lips on his.

Killian was completely taken by surprise. He wasn't able to move, and all he could do was return her kiss. Her lips were soft and tasted like sunshine and a green forest. He was overwhelmed and confused, and he liked it. A lot! It scared him. His heart hadn't felt this full in decades, he wasn't used to that feeling anymore. How should he react? He didn't even know what was going on here.

Way to fast, the woman broke the kiss and stepped back, but her hands still rested on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just had to make sure you're real."

Unable to utter a word, Killian nodded. He didn't even want to know how the island had messed with the girl.

"What happened?" he finally managed to ask, a little breathless.

"You saved me," the woman answered as if she still couldn't believe it. "You broke the curse in overcoming all five obstacles. I'm free now."

Killian understood what she was saying but it still didn't make sense in his mind. The girl seemed to feel the same way, but at least she was able to form coherent sentences.

"My name is Emma Swan. My kingdom was threatened by an Evil Queen, so I set forth to oppose her. She defeated me and cast this curse. I was forced to live in this cave for almost a century with only the egg as company. As a dragon I was hungry all the time. At the beginning, I didn't want to kill the people who came here, but …"

"But otherwise you would have starved," Killian added.

"At some point the dragon took over. I've been so sure to die in here. None of the men who made it to this point saw more in me than a beast. They all came only for the egg. A tear of love had to touch my body to break the curse. But why should someone shed tears for a monster?"

She looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes. "But you did. And your ability to cry for a dragon broke the curse...I've heard of you, Killian Jones, when I was a child. There are so many stories about the pirate with the hook. But I would have never thought you'd be the one to free me."

"I wouldn't have thought that either. But you aren't free yet."

He put his hook through a link of the chain and tore it apart. "Better now?"

Emma graced him with a smile, slipping into the cardigan, which reached her knees.

Hesitantly, she took a few steps and nearly lost her balance.

Killian offered her his arm. "Love, you haven't used these legs for a very long time," he remarked. "If you want, I can assist you in leaving this bloody island. Where's your kingdom?"

"Probably gone, like my family. I've been on this island for too long. There's nobody I could return to."

Meeting her eyes, he could see the same expression that had haunted him for centuries. The look of abandonment, of eternal loneliness that had been branded on her soul during all this time. And in that very moment he knew, he could never send this woman away.

He put an arm around her shoulders.

"There's always a place for you on the Jolly Roger, love," he said and pulled her towards the entrance of the cave.


End file.
